Angel (A Clint Barton Love Story)
by SHERlockedBridget
Summary: When Bailey Kane is promoted to Level Eight in SHIELD, she is sent on a mission with an unlikely friend.
1. Chapter 1

"I hope you won't let me down, Agent Kane. Level Eight is extremely prestigious. You're at the same security level as the Avengers now."

I smiled gently at Nick Fury, who was sat behind his desk, looking up at me like a man who wasn't quite sure whether he'd made a mistake or not.

"I won't let you down sir."

"You'd better not, Kane." He growled, standing up, and motioning me towards the door. "I think you'd better meet your new team members."

I was surprised. I had no idea I was being completely transferred. "Jones and Abbott and Mitchel?"

"Your old team members will be having a new recruit to fill your shoes." Fury smirked a little. "I have a feeling she'll have a hard time. You made quite an impression on those men."

We stopped at a door, down a corridor I'd never been to. Promotions in SHIELD were kind of like being reborn. Every time you dragged yourself up the ladder to a new level, you had to practically relearn the layout of the building, what with all the rooms you were given access to.

The door slid open, and Fury led me into the Avengers meeting room. Maria Hill turned to see me, and smiled gently. "Ah, you must be Agent Kane."

"Agent Hill." I smiled back at her, and she pointed to the long oval table, which the members of the Avengers were seated around.

"These are your new Team members. .I'm sure you've heard of Tony Stark." The infamous billionaire barely looked up from whatever he was doing on his phone.

"Doctor Bruce Banner." The doctor inclined his head.

"Agent Natasha Romanoff." The red-head smiled encouragingly at me from her seat beside Doctor Banner.

"Captain Steve Rogers." The attractive blonde man looked up from the file he was reading - presumably mine - and flashed me a perfect smile.

"And the Hawk, Clint Barton." Maria paused, coming to an empty seat beside Steve, and frowned. "Where's Barton?"

The various members of the Avengers shrugged, except Tony, who still had his head bent over his phone.

"I'm here, Hill." A voice came from the door behind us, and I turned to see Clint Barton saunter through the door. He brushed past Fury, who growled that the meeting had already started, and dropped into his seat beside Steve. "Don't get your panties in a twist."

Fury muttered something about manners, and then stepped up the the head of the table. Bruce nudged Tony, who gave an audible sigh and pocketed the phone, lazily swinging his head around to look at Fury, who cleared his throat, stopping when he realised I was still standing.

"You gonna take a seat, or wait for one to fly itself over there?" He snapped. Every head in the room turned to me, and I mumbled an apology, before finding a seat in between Natasha and Steve.

"Now, you're all gonna welcome Agent Kane to the team, and you're all gonna play _nice_with her until she's learnt the ropes of level eight. I'm lookin' at you, Stark."

"Of course, play nicely, and I'm guessing this is an order not to try and get in her pants?"

Fury pursed his lips. "I'm gonna ignore that comment. Agent Kane managed to get to this level through skills, so I want everyone to treat her with the same respect you treat me."

There was an awkward silence, while Clint and Tony exchanged side along grins.

"Okay, _more_ respect than you treat - you know what, just play nice."

"Scout's Honour." Tony assured him.

"You were never a Scout." Steve muttered.

"You want to prove that, Grandpa?"

"Break it up." Natasha muttered softly, as Steve bristled and narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, our main priority for the next couple of weeks is training Agent Kane." He turned his one good eye on me. "Now you've seen combat at level seven, but that ain't nothing compared to level eight. You're gonna go through two weeks of serious training."

"We've got babysitting duty?" Tony groaned from the other end of the table. Fury smiled softly.

"Yes, Stark. And you can start with teaching her the ins and outs of the technology we use here."

"Great, you can be in my remedial class with Capsicle."

"Don't call me that." Steve snapped.

"Rogers." Fury raised his voice a little to draw their attention back to him. "I want you taking her through combat situations. I want her thinking like a soldier. She needs to be able to make quick decisions under pressure. Good?"

Steve nodded, and turned in his seat to flash me a quick smile, which I returned.

"Banner, make sure she's healthy, and then take her through some of that science crap. She needs to know how to help herself if a mission goes wrong. Medical kits and stuff like that."

"Sure thing."

"Romanoff, you turn this girl into a lean mean, _killing_ machine. I want her to be just as good as you."

"I'll go easy on you to start." Natasha promised, grinning at me.

"And Barton?"

Clint looked up from the file he'd taken from Steve. "Hm?"

"By the time you're through with her, she's gonna be the sharpest shooter I've ever met. Deal?"

"Yeah sure, whatever."

"Right. Now to make sure nobody's cutting classes and switching around lessons, I've created a timetable for you all to follow." There were collective groans from around the table. "And you _will_ follow it. Understood?"

Everyone mumbled 'yes', and Fury handed out timetables. I picked mine up and examined it, checking my watch. I didn't have anything for another ten minutes, and then I had Bruce. I glanced up from the time table and caught his gaze, giving him a quick smile, which, thankfully, he returned.

"Okay, that's basically all I wanted to say, so you can all go do whatever it is you do when I don't want you." Fury sat back down in his seat, calling Agent Hill over. Tony whipped out his phone again, to begin a new game, and Steve, Clint and Natasha all grouped together, walking out of the room.

"You need anything before we start, or shall we just head down to the lab now?" Bruce asked, leading you out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

I was making my way down to the cafeteria when I heard someone muttering to themselves, through the half open door to the practice range.

"Straighten up, or that's going to be a miss." I heard a voice murmur. I poked my head around the door to see Clint shoot a perfect bullseye.

"Impressive." I called, and he turned, taking out another arrow. He smiled gently when he recognised me. "Agent Kane, right?"

"Bailey."

He grinned. "So _you're_ not into the whole 'Agent' deal either right?"

"Not really." I admitted. "It's not the main reason I joined SHIELD anyway."

"What was the main reason?" He shot another perfect bullseye, and glanced back at me. I shrugged.

"I guess I just kind of wanted to save people. Do some good."

He snorted. "Yeah, we're real big on 'Doing some good' here at SHIELD. anyway, when's your first lesson with me?"

"Three o'clock."

He checked his watch, and looked me up and down. "You gonna get lunch before we start, or are you just gonna watch me?"

"Oh, am I putting you off?" I feigned concern.

"Please." he snorted again and pulled out another arrow. "You'll have to do a lot more than give me Bambi eyes before you put _me_ off."

I raised an eyebrow. "Cocky much?"

He hit his third bullseye. "Very much."

Oh great; I'd been Level Eight for two hours and already I'd figured out one of my team members was an asshole.

"Well I'll leave you be. See you in an hour."

"Lesson starts at three. That's forty five minutes." He chided, not looking at me.

"Well, I'd hate to draw you away from your perfect bullseye streak, and judging by the way you acted back in the meeting, you're not so keen on 'babysitting' me."

"Hey," he turned quickly, looking offended. "I didn't say that;Tony did."

I shrugged. "I'm going to go ahead and say that you're on his side though?"

"Look, I'm not happy about wasting time when we could be out there, y'know, helping people, but it's always good to have an extra pair of hands." He looked me up and down, and I straightened up. We stood there in silence, eyeing each other up.

"Go get some lunch, and be back here in half an hour." He grunted, turning away from me.

"Lesson starts in forty five minutes." I reminded him.

"I don't care. I want you back here in half an hour. I want to see if your aim matches that smart mouth of yours."

I walked out of the archery range, and down the corridor towards the cafeteria, not particularly looking forward to my next lesson.

* * *

"So." Clint circled me slowly. "Let's start with something simple. A warm up."

I raised the bow and took an arrow out of the quiver. "When Fury said that he wanted me to be a sharp shooter, I _think_ he meant-"

"It's no good me teaching you how to use a gun if you can't use a bow." Clint snapped, standing behind me. "A gun is about power. A bow is about form. A bow is about aim. A bow is an art form, not just a weapon."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm holding your 'art form', Clint, so I'd be careful about how much you patronize me."

He gave an exasperated sigh, and snatched the bow from my hands.

"Hey!"

"Obviously, you aren't gonna hit anything stood like that." He muttered, dropping the bow on the floor and folding his arms. "Stand up straight. Back straight, chin up, eyes forward. I said back _straight_."

I glared at him, stretching my back out to a ridiculous length. "Shut up."

"That's not a good kind of attitude for a student to have towards her teacher." He joked, putting one hand flat against my stomach and the other on my back, straightening me gently. My eyebrows shot up.

"Okay, chin up." With his left hand he caught hold of my chin and gently guided it to where I should hold it. Then he stepped in my line of sight.

"Eyes on me."

I held that position for a couple of minutes, before he told me to relax and get back into the position on my own. When I stood how I thought I was supposed to, he adjusted me, and then we repeated it. After half an hour, I was in the position all by myself.

"Good. That's a lot better." He picked up the bow and handed it at me. "Now let's see if you can match that smart mouth."

I shot him a glare, and pulled out an arrow, closing one eye and aiming. When I fired, Clint exhaled loudly.

"What?" I snapped.

"Well, there's room for improvement."

I rolled my eyes and took out another arrow.

* * *

I walked into the lab half an hour later to find Steve sitting on a table, looking more bored than me during Clint's incessant ramblings about the art of archery. Tony was talking very quickly about his Iron Man suit.

"Ah, Bailey." Tony nodded for me to come in. "I have a technology lesson for you."

"It's really fun and interesting." Steve said in a monotone voice, looking up at me with dead eyes. "I've learned so much. Tony is a fountain of knowledge."

"Cut it, Super Soldier." Tony hissed from behind a computer hologram. Steve grinned at me, and tapped the desk space next to him.

"How long have you been in here?" I asked. He shuddered.

"Way too long. By the way, I'm your first lesson tomorrow. I'll make sure I go easy on you."

I laughed. "Thanks. I feel like I might need it."

"What have you got afterwards?"

"Clint." I pulled a face. "_Again_. And then Natasha."

He exhaled and shot me a sympathetic look. "Can't say I envy you."

I groaned, and glanced over at Tony, who was coughing to get our attention.

"The Iron Man suit is one of my finest creations, and -"

Steve and I both groaned, cutting him off.

* * *

I was lying in bed that night, trying to fall asleep when my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unfamiliar number.

_Make sure you bring a comfortable change of clothes tomorrow. We're going to start on hand to hand combat, and you'll need to be able to move freely. Also, Clint told me that your lesson didn't go down too well. Just ignore him. See you in the morning - Natasha._

I replied saying thank you, and was about to put my phone down again, when I got another text, from a different number.

_Natasha says I should apologise for being a douche in the archery lesson. She also says I should teach you how to shoot a gun instead of a bow and arrow. I think she should stick to her own lesson. Your opinion? - Clint_

I rolled my eyes and replied. _No opinion on the matter_.

_So you think I should teach you archery?_

I think you should teach me how to aim. Goodnight Clint.

I put the phone down and rolled over, closing my eyes and trying to get the shut eye Steve had recommended.


	3. Chapter 3

"So what makes you so special?" Clint asked quietly. I glanced around to look at him. He was pacing behind my back in a semi circle.

"Hm?"

"What makes you so special, that you're a Level Eight? Relax your shoulders."

I did as I was told, and tried to focus on the target in front of me.

"I don't know, maybe it's just my winning smile."

"I'm not kidding. Your files you're twenty four years old. You've been working at SHIELD for two years now; almost three. You didn't go to College. You have no background worth mentioning. So how did you even make it through the door?"

My hands shook as I gripped the bow more tightly. Clint either didn't notice or didn't care, and kept talking.

"Bailey?"

I fired, and completely missed the target. He sighed.

"Come on, you can do better than that."

"Yeah, well it's a little hard to concentrate with you bugging me back there, Barton." I snapped.

"Relax your shoulders." He muttered, continuing to pace. "And tell me how you managed to get to Level Eight in under three years. What makes you so damn special?"

I lowered the bow, and turned to face him. "That's none of your business."

"Really? Because you're one of the Avengers now. That may not mean a lot to you, because you haven't been in combat with any of us. We seem a little rough around the edges, but we're a _team_. And team members don't keep secrets from each other."

I stared at him, unblinking for a few seconds. "So what's your dark past then, Clint? What are you willing to share?"

He licked his lips slowly, his eyes roving across my face. "That's different."

I scoffed, and pulled out another bow. "Yeah, totally different."

"I mean that. I've been part of the team. I've fought. I've protected. What have you done? You walked in here all special and high and mighty, with Fury talking about you like you're so _damn special_. And you know what? After all that talk, after all that build up, after thinking that you could possibly be part of our team, and possibly be special, you turn out to be ordinary."

With every word he moved a little closer to me, until there were only a few inches separating us. I could have backed down. I could have cried - Lord knows I wanted to.

But I didn't.

"What the Hell is your problem with me, Clint?"

His eyes narrowed. "I don't trust you. No one here does. For someone who climbed SHIELD's ranks so quickly, you're just another pretty face in the crowd."

He gave a mirthless smile, and took my bow and arrows from me.

"You should go. Natasha's got to start training you. Maybe you can get something out of your time with her, seeing as you're just as bad in this as you were yesterday."

I felt a burning lump in my throat. Clint was still talking, his tone light and his words dark, obviously not caring about what they were doing to me. I swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in my throat away, so that it wouldn't dissolve into tears.

"I'm not ordinary." I managed to croak.

"What?"

"I'm not ordinary. There's a damn good reason I managed to get here as quickly as I have."

"And what's the reason?"

I swallowed hard, and sneered at him. "And why would I tell _you_ that, Clint Barton? In the two days I've known you the only thing you've done is try to make me feel like I'm not worth being here. Part of a team my ass."

His eyebrows raised as I spoke, and then, as I swallowed again, my vision blurred and one tear rolled down my cheek. He inhaled audibly, and began to move towards me.

"Bailey, I didn't mean to-"

"No." I pulled away from him, brushing away the tears with one hand and forcing a smile. "I'm just going to have to learn to prove myself as one of the Avengers, aren't I?"

He tried to say something else as I left, but I ignored him, getting out of the room as quickly as possible. I didn't want anything to do with him. He was a jerk, and an asshole, and a self-righteous one at that.

* * *

"Ah, morning how are yo-" Natasha froze when she saw me fling my bag down in the corner of the training room. "What's up?"

"Guess your text to Clint to get him to stop being a Douche Bag last night didn't help much." I muttered, wandering over to the mat to face her. She frowned sympathetically.

"Want me to talk to him again?"

"No, it's fine. I'll just have to get over it I guess."

She smiled gently. "You know, Clint's not actually an asshole. He just isn't too comfortable with new people. After the attack on New York, he isn't too trusting. And what with you rising through the ranks pretty quickly, your reputation preceded you. We expected someone..."

"Older?" I suggested, and she nodded, unabashed.

"Yes. Someone older."

"Well sorry to disappoint." I joked, trying to put Clint out of my mind. "But I'm all of twenty four."

"Mmh..."


	4. Chapter 4

My next two weeks of training went relatively quickly. It didn't take long for each of my team members - and part time teachers, to realise what I did and didn't need to work on. Tony, for instance, got pretty bored of trying to teach me and Steve about technology, so on my third 'lesson', he brought in Chinese food for the three of us, and we sat eating and talking. It became a tradition, right up to our last 'lesson'.

"So, Bailey." Steve poked at his Chinese take out a little uncertainly, and smiled at me, "How are you enjoying Level Eight of SHIELD?"

I shrugged, chewing on my noodles. "It's not that different to Level Seven if I'm honest."

Tony snorted into his food, and Steve glared at him, before turning back to me.

"I'm sure you'll realise the difference when you're actually out there." He explained kindly.

I nodded.

"So, how's your training going?"

"I wish it was all like this." I joked, motioning around to the food we were eating. Tony had a screen up on the inner workings of a pulse gun if Fury happened to walk past, but other than that, our 'lesson' was basically a chill time.

Steve nodded. "I'm guessing you're getting worked pretty hard by our assassins?"

"Hey, you're not going too easy on me either, Super Soldier."

He grinned and leaned back in his chair. "I hear you and Clint don't get on."

I shrugged, not particularly wanting to talk about it. The last session I'd had with him hadn't gone too badly. That was mainly because neither of us had talked to each other, but still, it was a lot more pleasant than arguing with him.

"He'll come around," Steve promised, "He's just -"

"Not trusting of new people." I cut in, "Yeah, I know. Natasha already told me."

"Yeah. Bailey, you've got to understand, Clint is an Agent of SHIELD, not just an Avenger. He's a lot like you. And promotions round here are very hard to get. So I think he's just waiting for you to -"

I cut across him again. "Not be ordinary?"

He frowned. "I was going to say 'do something extraordinary'."

"Yeah, well Robin Hood and I have already had a conversation about how plain I am. It really boosted my confidence."

Tony glanced up at the nickname and grinned. "You know something, Kane? When you first got here I didn't honestly think you were gonna last. I thought you were a drip, y'know, weak."

I pursed my lips, glaring up at him. "You Avengers really have a way with words, you know that, right?"

He grinned again. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You proved me wrong. You've survived the first two weeks, so well done. You're a fighter, and Clint'll see that, given time. You'll be fine."

I was surprised at Tony's warm words, and it was clear from his expression that Steve was too.

"Well thank you, Tony." I smiled. "And thanks for the Chinese."

"No problem."

* * *

"So, now I've perfected your aim, I want to see how you fare in this little test." Clint called as I walked in. I decided to keep my mouth shut, rather than make a remark.

"And," he continued, reaching into a duffel bag, "you'll be pleased to know I'm letting you use a gun."

"My last lesson, and now you're letting me use a gun?"

"Well, if it helps, your aim should be awesome." He handed me the gun, and motioned towards the moving targets at the other end of the room. "Have fun."

I stood at one end of the range, and closed one eye, Clint's voice in the back of my head. 'Chin up, eye's forward, back straight, shoulders relaxed. Steady your arm, support it if you need to, and fire.'

I fired, emptying the gun. From this distance I couldn't tell exactly where I'd hit the targets. Clint shut off the machine that held the targets, and together, we walked towards them. Clint whistled.

"Four bulls eyes, and the rest of them only near misses. Very nice."

"Thanks." I murmured, managing a smile. I remembered what Steve and Natasha had said about trust, and thought that maybe, now I'd proved that I could shoot, Clint wouldn't hate me as much.

"Good, now I'll just -" Clint stopped as the loudspeaker above us crackled to life.

_All Agents of Level Eight clearance must report to Director Fury in the meeting room. I repeat, all Agents of Level Eight clearance to the meeting room, immediately._

Clint raised an eyebrow, and nodded to me. "That's us, let's go."

"Are you sure?" I followed him out of the room. "I mean, I don't have a pass or anything, I'm just -"

"Fury upgraded you to Level Eight personally, right?" Clint span round to face me, his voice urgent. "Which means you're Level Eight material. I don't care whether you've just been promoted or you've been with us for a year - get your ass in gear, because we're going to the meeting room."

I'd never heard him speak like that before. With such insistence, and urgency, and earnest. He led me down the corridors to the meeting room, pushing past other Agents and dragging me with him. We finally burst into the meeting room, panting. Every eye turned to us.

Fury nodded for us to enter, and we stumbled in, dropping into seats in between Natasha and Bruce.

"We got a message from Thor recently." Fury explained, "Warning us of a possible incursion. He doesn't know where from, or who it's gonna be, but he told us that it's gonna happen. So I'm calling in the Avengers, to Assemble now. Agent Kane?"

I looked up at him. "Yes sir?"

"You're gonna be working closely with Agent Barton. I need the two of you undercover, here in New York City. Agent Romanoff? I want you out in Russia. We've got a couple of Level Sevens out in Russia, waiting for you."

She nodded.

"Rogers, you wait here for Thor. When he arrives, the two of you are going to England. His scientist friend is there, and maybe she can help us."

"Of course, sir."

"Stark? You and Banner are -"

"Uh... I don't think it's such a good idea for me to be out in the field..." Bruce interrupted. Fury carried on like he hadn't heard him.

"You're gonna be in DC. The two of you are gonna be working with a team of scientists down there."

"Deal." Tony glanced at Bruce, before answering Fury. Bruce still looked unconvinced.

"One question, sir." Natasha murmured, glancing around the table at the rest of us. "Why are we all being split up?"

"The sites you are all being sent to are sites with high energy readings. We believe they're gonna be hotspots for incursions."

Natasha nodded, folding her hands in her lap.

"Now, you're all ready. Suit up, and get out there."

Clint turned to me, and motioned for me to follow him. We trailed behind the rest of the group to go get set up, and I felt my pulse begin to race.

I was about to experience combat on Level Eight.


	5. Chapter 5

I smiled gently as I looked at myself in the mirror. Agents had to wear traditional SHIELD issue uniform, but seeing as I was now a member of the Avengers, my uniform had a couple of modifications.

The one that stuck out most clearly was the design. The black costume had off white piping down the zipper, and on the back, between my shoulders, there was a design of white wings. I raised an eyebrow and smiled gently.

"Hey, Kane." Clint knocked on the door. "We should head out. Fury says we've got a car waiting outside, with our files in."

"Got it." I threw on a leather jacket to cover up the wing pattern, and unlocked the door, stepping out. Clint glanced up and down at me, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"That's uh..." He cocked an eyebrow and dragged his eyes up to mine. "Tight."

"You sure that purple is SHIELD issue, Barton?" I replied coolly, biting back a smile. "It's really manly."

The smile slid off his face.

"Let's just get to the car, shall we?"

"Sure thing." 

* * *

"Director Fury has assigned me as your driver in the coming weeks. My name's Henry by the way." Our driver called from the front of the car.

" Clint."

"Bailey."

"Your files and briefs are in there somewhere." Henry said, as the engine started. Clint dug around in a black bag, and pulled out two files. He handed me one and opened his own.

"Mr and Mrs Emmett Brown?!" I cried, staring up at him in horror from across the back of the car. In the front, I heard Henry chuckle. "Those are our names? Fury put us undercover as a _married couple_?"

" Not only that," Clint's eyes widened, "But a _rich_ married couple too."

"I fail to see how this is going to help us stop an enemy incursion from outer space." I said drily. Clint grinned, reading on.

"Ahh..." He smiled, "We're tracking a guy named Eric Tuscane. He's a rich businessman and entrepreneur, and you want to know what his business deals in?"

"Enlighten me."

"Energy sources. He's been working with weird energy sources, and according to the file which _you should totally be reading right now by the way_, he may be the reason the pocket of energy is fluctuating here so much." He nodded. "Interesting."

"Great, so what are we supposed to be doing, getting all buddy buddy with Tuscane and hope that he lets us take a look at his super secret energy source?"

Clint shrugged. "Guess we'll just have to make that up as we go along."

"Hmm... Great."

"Well, at least we'll be - shit."

"What?" I glanced over at Clint, who was staring up at the buildings outside.

"Henry, why are you pulling up here?" Clint ignored my question.

"This is where the two of you will be staying for the duration of the mission, Agent Barton."

Clint's eyes widened.

"Clint, what is it?"

"Have you _seen_ where we _are_?" Clint grinned at me as the car stopped. "This is one of the richest neighbourhoods in town. Come on."

He stepped out of the car, and I followed, a little apprehensively. "Clint, wait."

He stopped at the steps to a luxurious looking apartment building, waiting impatiently. "Come _on_." 

* * *

The apartment was huge. It was bigger than huge.

"You could fit like, three of the Hulk in the living room alone." I whispered, following Clint inside.

"This is insane."

We wandered through the living room into what looked like the study. There were shelves of weapons, duplicates of our costumes, and a range of bows for Clint.

"Yeah, this is insane." I agreed.

"The two of you will be alright in here, I assume?" Henry called from the front door.

"Yeah, thanks Henry." Clint left the - what was it, an armoury? And went back to the living room.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Henry turned back, and dug his hand into his pocket. "Fury wanted me to give you these." He handed Clint two small boxes, and left, closing the door with a quiet 'click' behind him. Clint opened up one of the boxes, and laughed.

"What?" I joined him in the centre of the living room, and he handed me one of the boxes. I opened it up, and felt a grin spread across my face. It was a gold ring.

"Uh..." Clint took the ring out of the box, closed it, and tossed it on the sofa. "Marry me?"

I grinned. "As me nicely, Clint."

He scrunched up his face. "Marry me, please?"

I raised an eyebrow, and he groaned, rolling his eyes and dropping to one knee.

"Bailey Kane," he began, taking my hand in his own, "Newly appointed Level Eight SHIELD operative and fellow Avenger, who I've been a complete dick to over the past two weeks... Marry me, please?"

"Why should I marry you, Clint?" I teased.

He sighed, and then looked up at me with the most sincere pair of eyes I'd ever seen. "Because you're smart and beautiful, and talented, and I worked you far too hard over the past two weeks." He grinned slyly, "And you've got a slammin' body."

"Kiss ass." I muttered, rolling my eyes and grinning. "All right. I'll marry you."

He slid the ring on my finger, and then, for good measure, kissed my hand.

"Sorry about the past two weeks."

"Sorry about making fun of your uniform."

"Sorry about..." He stopped. "I don't have anything else to be sorry about. Oh well." He stuck out his hand. "Now you marry me."

I slipped the ring onto his finger and smiled at him.

"Okay Mrs Barton -" he began walking towards the kitchen, and I stopped him.

"Brown." I corrected.

"Huh?"

"Your name is Emmett Brown. Meaning I'm Mrs. Brown."

He scowled. "It would have killed Fury to let me keep my own name?"

"So desperate for a wife, Mr Barton?" I teased, stepping ahead of him and walking to the kitchen. 


	6. Chapter 6

"You're up early." Clint murmured as I wandered into the kitchen a couple of days later, pulling a sweater over my head. I shrugged and dropped into a seat.

"Couldn't sleep."

He raised an eyebrow, and poured a coffee for me. "Sugar?"

"Two."

"Nightmare?" He stirred the coffee thoughtfully, watching me carefully from the breakfast bar. I shook my head, and he put the mug down in front of me.

"Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head again, and he frowned. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes while I blew on my coffee to cool it, and he made himself a mug of drink.

"So, I don't think we're making any headway with Tunscane." He sighed, sitting opposite me. "I really think the guy's clean, but either way, we're going into the building tomorrow night to break into their files."

I groaned. "This is why I should have paid attention to Tony."

He grinned. "Don't worry about it. Hacking is relatively easy. Your job is to mainly keep anyone else in the building occupied while I copy the files."

"So you're gonna be the brains of the operation?" I sipped my coffee.

"Yeah, and you'll be the brawn." He tossed me a grin. "Anyway, tonight, you and I are at a party, held by Tuscane. There are going to be a few more SHIELD Agents there, so we won't be alone if anything does go wrong. And you'll need to put on a dress."

I groaned again, and he laughed. He told me to finish up my coffee and get ready, because Henry was taking us out. 

* * *

"Clint, what are we doing here?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and looking around. Henry had dropped us off outside an expensive looking shop. He smiled and motioned for me to walk inside.

"If we're going to look the part, you need a dress, and I need a tux."

We stepped inside the small, dark, air conditioned shop, and I became incredibly concious of Clint's hand on my back. The store owner walked across the shop floor to us.

"How can I help you, sir, madam?"

"My wife is looking for a dress for a dinner party we're attending later today." Clint said, smiling warmly. "And I need a new Tuxedo."

"Of course store, however, is only for ladies. The shop across the street fits mens' tuxedos."

Clint glanced at me. "You'll be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." I smiled up at him, and he dropped a hasty kiss on my cheek, which made my skin tingle, before leaving the shop. The door swung closed behind him, and I was left with a pretty straight-laced shop owner.

"Now, madam." He said, leading me through the shop to the back, where I was met with rows and rows of dresses. "Is there anything in particular you were looking for?"

"I uh..."

He noticed I was looking a little lost, and smirked. "I'll leave you to Julia. Wait here one minute please. Feel free to look at our range of dresses."

He exited through a door in the corner of the room, and left me alone with a bunch of expensive, and gorgeous dresses. I grinned in spite of myself. This mission could actually turn out to be quite a lot of fun; Clint was warming to me; I got to hang out in expensive shop with nice dresses; our apartment was awesome; and as far as I could tell, Clint and I weren't in any serious danger.

"Ah, madam." I heard a cold, plummy voice from behind me, and I turned. A woman was standing in a clean, pressed business suit. I felt a little out of place in my sweater and jeans, and shifted uncomfortably. "I've been informed you wish to buy an evening gown."

"Uh, yeah thanks." I smiled, a little uncertainly, and she nodded.

"Is there anything in particular you have your eye on?"

I looked across to the light blue dress I'd been looking at while waiting for her. She followed my gaze, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lip curl.

"Madam is not accustomed to choosing dresses?"

_Madam's gonna break your wrist._ I thought to myself, but forced a smile. "No."

She nodded, like she understood, and motioned for me to follow her to the end of the rack. She looked me up and down, and gave a curt nod. "I believe a dark green, red or blue would suit would suit -"

"Got it." I cut across her before she could say 'madam' one more time.

"Yes." She searched the rack, pushing past rows of perfectly adequate dresses before pulling out a forest green one. If anyone had asked me to describe it, the only word I would have been able to form would have been 'big'. She glanced at me one more time before silently throwing it back on the rack and searching for another.

"I saw dresses in the room back there, when I came in -" I suggested, but she shook her head.

"All of those dresses are for far more petite women."

I raised an eyebrow, and she carried on. "You bone structure is far to heavy for any of those dresses."

"That so?" I muttered, folding my arms and wishing that Clint would come back so I could grab a dress and get out.

"Something backless?" She suggested, but I shook my head.

"No, nothing backless, thank you." I said, pushing away a red silky dress that she held out for me. She tossed me a glare and began searching again. Finally, she found a dark blue dress.

"One shoulder?" She suggested, raising an eyebrow at me. "Does that meet your requirements?"

I could almost feel the hatred. It was at that point that the front door to the store opened, and I heard someone talking to the manager. Clint walked into the back room.

"Did you get the suit?" I asked.

"Tux." The woman behind me corrected. Clint raised his eyebrows at me, but nodded.

"Yeah. How about your dress?"

I pointed behind me, and the woman held it out.

"You gonna try that on before you buy it?"

I sighed, and shrugged. "Might as well." 

* * *

"You know, that was awful." I mused over a milkshake half an hour later. Clint laughed.

"Yeah, at least mine was simple. I told them my size, told them I wanted a black tux, and they pulled one out. Voila."

I laughed and shook my head. "Yeah, I got the impression that woman in there hated me."

"Ah well." Clint sipped his milkshake and shrugged. "You get to go to a party and wear the dress. She has to sit there and work."

"Spose."

"Hey, cheer up." He tossed a chip at me from across the table. "We get to do some actual Spy stuff tomorrow night."

I couldn't help but laugh.


End file.
